The Airport

by Douglas Young

Intense faces all around:
Black, white, yellow and brown;
High expectations mix with the mundane.
No matter the motive, get to that plane.

We fervently cling to the notion
That the solution is in motion;
So everyone’s in a hurry,
So focused, with no time to worry.

If we just get to our destination and on time,
Somehow everything will work out and even rhyme;
Getting there is the key, and don’t be late;
Be decisive and never hesitate.

So we rush through the airport just like ants,
Going the same way, doing the same dance;
God forbid we stop, relax, and reflect,
Since the answer’s out there, don’t you expect?

Travel teaches there are fine folks everywhere,
And many means for the circle to get the square;
But no matter how far we fly or in which direction,
The answer is found only within, through introspection.


Copyright © 2016 by Douglas Young

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